A Black's Loss
by littany
Summary: Where there is departure, something is lost, and everything changes. When Sirius Black left Number 12 Grimmauld Place, nothing was ever the same for any of the Blacks.


Summary: Where there is departure, something is lost, and everything changes. When Sirius Black left Number 12 Grimmauld Place, nothing was ever the same for any of the Blacks.  
  
A/N: Written for the Gen Fication , for ronniekinns. challenge: Mr. Black's POV of his son leaving. Didn't turn out to be Mr. Black's POV, but there's a great deal of him here. Hope you like it. Thanks to my friend Leo for beta-reading.  
  
No man can lose what he never had . Izaak Walton  
  
"He's gone."  
  
Regulus stood at his parents' door, quivering. He was 14 years old, but he felt like four at this moment; one that he would remember forever. He felt a chill in the air as his mother sat up in her bed, her dark curly hair flowing down her back, looking irritated. "Regulus! Why are you in—"  
  
"He's gone, Mother," Regulus said again, stepping forward. "He left. Forever." He felt his voice quiver slightly.  
  
"Who are you talking about, Reggie? You can't mean Kreacher," his mother said, frowning. She pushed the lump beside her. "Pollux, wake up, your son's here."  
  
"You mean Sirius?" His father sat up, looking grumpy, his tone coarse. There had been a horrible fight earlier that night, worse than anything Regulus had ever seen. Regulus had heard them shouting after he left the dinner table. But he often heard them screaming at each other, so he hadn't been alarmed. Yet tonight's fight had been different. And now Sirius was gone...  
  
"No, Father, it's me...Sirius isn't here..." Regulus answered, unsure of how to make his parents understand. "At all."  
  
"At all? Reggie, what do you mean? The brat's probably still in his room, sulking," his mother spat. She lifted her face up, and to Regulus' horror, he spotted a red mark on her pale, white cheek, like she had been slapped.  
  
"He's...gone..." Regulus said again, backing into the wall. "And he's back..."  
  
Mr. Black blinked at Regulus and stood up. "He's gone? Sirius is GONE?!?!"  
  
Regulus nodded.  
  
His mother sighed and laid her slender body against the bed frame, as if bored. "Pollux, you know he likes to run away from us, he always goes off to that Mugglelover's house, but he always comes back...he has to. He has no where else to go."  
  
"He took his stuff," Regulus said, his eyes wide. "His broom, his cloak, his books..."  
  
Pollux Black pushed Regulus aside as he stormed through the doorway to Sirius' room. Regulus fell to the floor, but he picked himself up quickly, and looked back over at his mother. She seemed a bit unsettled, but cool and confident as always.  
  
Regulus heard his father's loud footsteps walking back. His father had sort of a crazed look on his face—it was one Regulus knew too well. There was now a bottle in Mr. Black's left hand, and he drank deeply before uttering, "He is gone, Cassandra..." Regulus watched as his father started pacing the room. "Don't you remember...he did say he was leaving."  
  
"Honestly, Pollux, the boy is 16 years old, not to mention a rash idiot," Mrs. Black said. "He wasn't serious. I'm telling you, he went to see that horrid family—"  
  
"The Potters," Mr. Black said in a low voice. "He's with them, isn't he..." He took another drink and licked his lips. Regulus gulped uncomfortably. It was always terrible whenever his father spoke of the Potters. Mr. Black and Mr. Potter had differing opinions on almost every subject that existed. Regulus didn't think that there were two people on Earth that hated each other more. It was just bitter irony that their sons happened to be best friends.  
  
Mr. Black's eyes blazed. "I'll go get him," he said, suddenly, walking towards the door. "I'll drag that boy straight back home right now...you," He pointed at Regulus on impulse, and grabbed his hand. "You're coming with me, boy."  
  
"Pollux!" Mrs. Black jumped out of bed, revealing a long red nightdress. "You will do no such thing."  
  
"I will not have my son in that filthy man's--" Mr. Black started, his fingers digging into Regulus' pajamas. Regulus was beginning to feel afraid again.  
  
He was interrupted by Mrs. Black swooping over to her husband. She smiled coyly and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. "Pollux," she said, soothingly, "Just calm down now, let's all get some sleep..." She ran her hand over his arm, and it went limp. He dropped Regulus' sleeve, and Regulus backed into the doorway.  
  
Mr. Black looked like he was about to protest, but Regulus' mother rested her head briefly on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. She artfully took the bottle from his left hand while kissing his neck, and set it on the dresser. "Come on, Pollux...back to bed," she started to lead her husband towards the bed, but turned around just in time to give Regulus a look that clearly meant for him to go to his room immediately.  
  
Regulus passed by Sirius' room on the way to his own. There was still many of Sirius' old, dusty toys, and papers on the floor, but somehow, his room seemed unbearably empty. Regulus walked inside timidly, and saw the moonlight streaming in from the open window. He could taste the cool night breeze, and the curtains swayed briefly as he sat on his brother's bed and rested his head on his knees.  
  
Regulus had never thought his mother could ever be wrong, but he knew that when it came to Sirius, she knew nothing.  
  
He wouldn't be back in the morning.  
  
Sirius had left them forever.  
  
Regulus woke up early the next morning to his father shaking him awake. He felt a pang of fear in his heart, but to his relief, Mr. Black just sat on Regulus' bed once he saw that his son was awake. Obviously, he was sober again.  
  
Mr. Black looked over at Regulus, who saw dark calluses under his father's eyes. Regulus didn't know what to say. Finally, Mr. Black whispered, in a hollow, dead voice, "He didn't come back, Regulus."  
  
Regulus nodded. "I told you he was gone, Father."  
  
"I just don't believe it...why would he leave us?" Mr. Black said, shaking his head. Regulus sighed. Whenever his father drank, it had a profound effect on his memory. Evidently, this time, he had forgotten last night. Regulus thought he was especially lucky.  
  
"Didn't you guys fight yesterday?" he asked curiously, wondering if his father remembered anything. Regulus had retreated to his room when it started as he hated the screaming.  
  
Mr. Black frowned. "I don't remember really...but they were yelling..." he sighed softly.  
  
Regulus ran his tongue over his lips wistfully and took a stab. "Well, then...why don't we bring him back home?"  
  
Mr. Black blinked. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, he's at James Potter's house, right? So we can just go there and tell him to come home..."  
  
"You think he'll really come back?"  
  
Regulus paused. His heart sunk as he realized Sirius would never willingly come back. "Well...maybe..." he said.  
  
With those words, Mr. Black stood up, and he seemed like a changed man. His eyes were brighter, and he seemed to have more energy. It seemed that Regulus' reply had given Mr. Black the hope Regulus wished he had. "Let's go!" He grabbed Regulus' hand and pulled him off the bed.  
  
"What exactly are you two doing..." Regulus looked up to see his mother, clutching her own arms and leaning against the doorway of his room. In the daylight, it was easier than ever to see the red bruise contrast against her pale skin.  
  
"We're going to get Sirius back," Mr. Black said.  
  
"Wonderful," she said dryly, smiling sarcastically. Mr. Black smiled as well and left the room, presumably to get dressed. Regulus looked down at the floor. He could tell her his mother hadn't left the doorway yet because he could still hear her breathing.  
  
"You know he won't come back," he heard her say softly.  
  
"I know," he replied in a small voice.  
  
"So don't make your father think he will," she snapped. "You know he's crazy."  
  
"I know," Regulus said again, feeling meek.  
  
"I for one don't want that bloodtraitor back." Regulus looked up to see that his mother had a terrible scowl that sullied her normally beautiful face. "Not after what he did to me last night." She ran a pallid finger over the welt on her cheek.  
  
Regulus didn't know how to answer, so he stayed silent. Mrs. Black walked closer to her son's bed, still talking. "He doesn't belong in this family anyway. Everything went wrong after he befriended those Mudblood-lovers. He turned into a Gryffindor, befriended a werewolf, courted a Mudblood, was nearly expelled—"  
  
That wasn't exactly right, Regulus knew. Sirius had actually hated James Potter for a good six months before they became friends, and he had been Sorted before that—but there was no way he'd tell his mother she was wrong.  
  
"He doesn't even care about being a Black anymore, or upholding our family's purity. A Black with an attitude like that isn't even a Black anymore. He really is no better than Andromeda," Mrs. Black said, her voice low. Regulus let out a breath—his mother hated his cousin Andromeda so much that she hardly spoke of her. "He's no son of mine anymore, since he thinks so little of our superiority...I should just blast him off the tapestry, like he requested..." With this, she took her wand out of her pocket and stared at it, nodding. "Yes..."  
  
"No!" Regulus found himself shouting, without even realizing it. Mrs. Black looked at him now, glowering, a look she reserved only for Sirius. Regulus was terrified to be on the receiving end of this glare. "I mean...he may come back with us," he managed to squeak out.  
  
Suddenly, Mrs. Black's angry expression turned amused, and she was laughing. It was cold, ridiculing laughter. "As we discussed, he won't... Your father doesn't remember," she said coolly, tapping her wand on the back of her right palm, "but he punched that brat pretty bad after he hit me."  
  
Regulus closed his eyes. That wasn't good news: Sirius probably wouldn't even want to talk to his father after that.  
  
Just then, Mr. Black ran back in, dressed in brown robes, looking fully refreshed. "Want to come, Cassandra?" he asked.  
  
"I'd rather not," she said. "If you really must go."  
  
Mr. Black put a hand on Regulus' shoulder. "Regulus wants to go."  
  
"You shouldn't care for traitors, Regulus," his mother said. "After all, they don't care for you."  
  
"Sirius cares about me!" Regulus shouted, before he could stop himself. Quickly, he covered his own mouth—he hadn't publicly disagreed with her before.  
  
"Then go," Mrs. Black said, turning away. "See who's right for yourself."  
  
Some time later, Regulus and his father were flying on broomsticks towards the Potter's house. It was Unplottable, as most wizard houses were, impossible to find unless one knew where to look, but as long as they flew around Yorkshire for awhile they would find it. Regulus had been there only once before, also to retrieve Sirius. All that he could remember was that it was a very large house (even compared to his own). They flew in silence, mostly because Mr. Black was a much better flier than Regulus and was a good distance ahead of him most of the way.  
  
When Regulus started spotting large houses among rolling hills, he knew they were getting close. Suddenly, he saw his father dive, and he followed. Soon, they were both standing in front of towering gray house with lots of windows. There was a large flower garden in front with a long pathway, and Regulus thought he could see many trees in the backyard. The house had an impressive but homely feel—definitely the Potter mansion.  
  
Something occurred to Regulus, as he stared at the house, and he turned to Mr. Black. In the early sunlight, his father's gray eyes seemed almost silver. Despite his frequent mood changes, Regulus generally respected his father—there was something about his strong stature that commanded it. "Father," he asked quietly, "why...why do you want Sirius back?"  
  
Mr. Black frowned. "He's my son, Regulus, as much as you are."  
  
"Mother doesn't think so," Regulus said, without thinking. He put his hand over his mouth quickly and looked at Mr. Black, who just smiled a little wistfully.  
  
"Your mother doesn't know everything, Regulus...don't tell her I said that, though...she won't like it."  
  
Regulus' eyes widened with shock, but he didn't say anything. It wasn't too often that his father said something of meaning—like this, but he wasn't sure whether he believed it. There was no telling what went on in his father's head, most of the time.  
  
He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard laughing, coming from behind the house. That's probably Sirius. "Father...I think I hear Sirius...I'll get him...you just wait for us here..." Regulus said, handing Mr. Black his broom to hold.  
  
Mr. Black nodded solemnly, and Regulus walked around the house, following the sound of Sirius' laughter. He sounded happy—but that didn't mean anything, Regulus thought, Sirius laughed in his presence, too, but not that much lately.  
  
Soon enough, Regulus could see what looked like a mini-Quidditch pitch between two oak trees. There were hooks to throw Quaffles in, and appropriate lines drawn on the grass. Leave it to James Potter, the Quidditch fanatic to have his own stadium right in his backyard, Regulus thought.  
  
James Potter was a curious case; he was well-liked by most of the student population, despite the fact that he enjoyed bullying many of the younger students. He was intelligent in a lazy, effortless way that you could only admire—he passed classes sometimes without even attending, and he was probably the school's biggest Quidditch star. Regulus could never bring himself to like him much, because whenever Potter was around, Sirius was different. When they were younger, Sirius and Regulus had been inseparable, and Sirius told Regulus all his secrets...but now Sirius hardly spoke to Regulus outside of their house. At King's Cross, the minute Potter showed up, Sirius would tell Regulus to get lost, and he was out of Regulus' life until Christmas. Regulus hated this—and he resented James Potter as well, for being the source of it.  
  
Sirius and Potter were flying in the air on their brooms, playing around. Regulus made his way towards them slowly, but he could tell when Sirius saw him, because he dropped his club and flew closer to Potter to talk to him. He heard Potter say (as Potter never lowered his voice), "Maybe he decided he wanted to run away, too,"  
  
"Regulus? My mother's good little baby? I don't think so..." Sirius responded derisively.  
  
Regulus stiffened—he heard that comment, but he decided to ignore it. Sirius acted differently around his friends...he didn't mean everything he said...did he?  
  
"Reg," Sirius said, as he flew over and hovered next to his little brother. Regulus saw that up close, Sirius' left cheek still looked a bit puffy, and he still had a small black eye. "Why are you here?"  
  
"I've come to bring you back, of course."  
  
"Don't waste your time," Sirius scoffed, flying higher into the air. "There's no way I'm going back there."  
  
"How can you run away? You have no place to live—no money—"Regulus shouted after his brother, who was flying in broad circles over his head.  
  
"I'm going to stay with James until I can get a job or something," Sirius came to a lazy stop next to Regulus again. "It'll work out."  
  
There was Sirius unrelenting confidence, the confidence Regulus wished he could have. "You can't just run away..." he said helplessly.  
  
Sirius looked bored. "Why not? I doubt anyone in that house actually misses me. Kreacher will be glad to have no one to clean up after."  
  
"Father misses you! And I—"  
  
"That I doubt."  
  
"He even came with me just now..." Regulus stopped talking, because Sirius was staring hard at him.  
  
"Do you have any idea what Father did to me last night?" He asked, his grey eyes narrowing.  
  
"He...he hit you..." Regulus said shakily, and he couldn't help but stare at Sirius' black eye.  
  
Sirius nodded and looked away.  
  
"He doesn't remember any of it, though. You know it's only because he was drinking all night."  
  
"I don't need a father that hurts me, Regulus."  
  
"But it was your fault! You're the one who made it violent! You slapped Mother! "  
  
Sirius snorted. "That bitch. She deserved it."  
  
Regulus' eyes widened. "Don't call her that! I don't think that Father should have...you know, but, you always make them so angry, and I don't understand why...you could have avoided that fight..."  
  
Sirius snorted. "Although I wouldn't put it past our dear cousin to tell lies to get me in trouble, that wasn't the truth, Reg. I did have a Muggle- born girlfriend this year."  
  
"Why can't you just date girls Mother and Father like? Why can't you just do what they say... then there wouldn't be any fights—"  
  
"For your information, it is none of their business who I choose to date, love, or marry," Sirius snapped, his gray eyes suddenly alight with anger. "I'm tired of it—tired of being a Black, tired of having to uphold the effing pure family name..."  
  
"You're not proud of being a Black?" Family honor was deeply ingrained in Regulus; Mother was always talking about how wonderful their family was, and Father had a hall full of pictures of all their relatives, the pride of the house. For the Blacks, family honor was everything. Sirius had been flouting his parent's orders for years, but Regulus never imagined that he hated the entire house of Black.  
  
"What is there to be proud of? We strut around, like we're above everyone else because we're pure, we're Slytherins, we're Blacks... but inside we're dirty. We tell ourselves lies to make us feel good about ourselves—walking hypocrites. We say Muggleborns are filthy, corrupted, stupid, ignorant—but I know the truth, Regulus...that's really us. The smartest girl in my year is a Muggleborn. They're wizards and witches, just the same as all of us, and they deserve respect, too, they shouldn't be slaughtered, tortured...we should really be ashamed of ourselves."  
  
Regulus was shocked to hear Sirius' rave—it was obvious this was a subject he cared deeply about. It left Regulus quite speechless. Sirius didn't care about being a Black! It was unheard of; if Father knew he would hurt Sirius just like last night, and Mother would scream at him...  
  
It occurred to Regulus, suddenly, that that was probably precisely what had happened during their fight last night, after Mother had brought up what Bella told them. He could suddenly imagine how the fight progressed, with his parents angry at Sirius for denouncing the Blacks, and Sirius being stubborn as always, refusing to give in...  
  
"I'm not ashamed of being a Black," he said suddenly. "We should be proud of our family...we've been pure for centuries...not many other families can say that, since there aren't that many of us nowadays..."  
  
"I left because I didn't want to hear that crap, Regulus," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Don't bring it here."  
  
"Mother always talks like that," Regulus said. "You've never hit her before! Why-"  
  
"She started insulting my friends. I had to stick up for them, after all, they're," he looked over at James, who, having enough sense to stay out of their conversation, was chasing a model snitch around the pitch. "The only people in this world I actually care about."  
  
Regulus' heart sank. He couldn't believe his ears—Sirius was actually saying to his face, that he didn't care about him, his own brother? "Sirius," he pleaded, "you always act strangely in front of your friends...why can't you just come home..."  
  
"Regulus," Sirius said seriously, patting his brother's hand, "I am home here, with the Potters. Maybe one day you'll realize too that our parents aren't always right."  
  
Suddenly, they heard shouts from the side of the house. Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus saw James look a bit confused, and fly towards the shouting. Regulus and Sirius looked at each other before heading over to see what was going on.  
  
By the time Regulus caught up with James and Sirius, the shouting was so loud it could be heard all over the neighborhood. It was, of course, Regulus' father and Mr. Potter. Regulus recognized him immediately, even though he had never seen the man before; James Potter was almost a carbon copy of him, sans James' hazel eyes.  
  
"You honestly expect me to just leave him with you, Pollux Black...often times too drunk to even stand..." Mr. Potter's dark blue eyes were intense, but his voice was calm despite the situation.  
  
Mr. Black inhaled sharply. "How dare you! He's my son!" he shouted.  
  
"You are not fit to raise children. Sirius is a brilliant, talented boy! Yet I found him here at midnight, practically on my doorstep with a horribly smashed face? No child deserves to be hurt like that!"  
  
Mr. Black mouthed wordlessly and shook his head. "What-What are you saying...I would never..."  
  
"Look at him," Mr. Potter said coolly, pointing behind Mr. Black at Sirius and James, who were silently watching them.  
  
Mr. Black swiveled around and looked at Sirius, who took a step back in surprise. There was a long pause as Mr. Black just stared at Sirius, and Regulus could only hear them breathing. Mr. Black looked flabbergasted. "Sirius...how...I did that to you?" Sirius looked like he didn't know how to answer.  
  
From the look on his father's face, Regulus knew the situation could only get worse from here. He always hated fights—conflicts of any kind...he was weak, and he knew it. Every other Black was strong, his father, his mother, his cousins, even Sirius...his mother's cool face flashed suddenly in Regulus' mind. He thought about what Sirius had said earlier...He doesn't care about being a Black...he doesn't care about me...  
  
At that thought, something new boiled inside him. It wasn't right that Sirius should care about his friends more than his family, particularly when his friends were disgraces...a werewolf, and Muggle-advocates...that wasn't right at all. It made him angry, and hungry for vengeance. Sirius doesn't care for me...then I'll do the same for him...  
  
His mother's face flashed back one more time in his mind, and her eyes seemed to ask him a question: "Are you satisfied now?"  
  
"Yes," he said aloud, firmly. "Father, let's go," he continued, looking straight into his father's eyes, his hand on his broom.  
  
Mr. Black, whose expression was a mix of disappointment and bewilderment, looked at Regulus. "What?"  
  
Regulus felt strong—disliking Sirius made him confident, something he never was. It was a very good feeling. "We shouldn't be here, Father. Sirius doesn't care about m—us. Let's just go home."  
  
Mr. Black looked confused. "But—"  
  
"Father, we're leaving," Regulus said decidedly.  
  
Mr. Black looked at Sirius, who was expressionless. "I can't just leave my son here—"  
  
"He's better off here, isn't he, Father? With people he actually cares about, that is." He glanced over at Sirius, and the Potters, who all had uncertain looks on their faces.  
  
Mr. Black looked as if he was about to protest again, but suddenly he looked into Sirius' face, finally understanding the true meaning of the marks on Sirius' face, and shuddered. "I...I should leave," he said distractedly, backing away, without a farewell.  
  
For a second, Regulus just looked at Sirius; his older brother, with those hard grey eyes and dark hair, someone he had always admired and wanted to be...and the pedestal he held his brother on for fourteen years crumbled. To his delight Sirius was now just another person, who was suddenly looking a little guilty. "Reg," he said, "I didn't—"  
  
"Goodbye, Sirius," he said softly. "I hope you like your new family...your new brother..." He walked down the pathway after his father, not looking back, and they both flew back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place without another word.  
  
Days later, things at the Black household had returned to normal. Mrs. Black blasted Sirius' name off the family tapestry while the family looked on; his room was hastily cleaned out by Kreacher, and it was rather like he had never existed at all. Regulus knew his father at least still remembered him though, because he often found him sitting in Sirius' old room, looking forlornly at the stars.  
  
Once, Regulus questioned his father about why he was sitting in Sirius' old room.  
  
Mr. Black looked at him and answered, a little wistfully, "I lost something in this room."  
  
"You've been looking for it for a few months, then," Regulus answered.  
  
"I don't think I'm going to find it, Regulus. It's probably gone forever," Mr. Black said, looking out the window. "But just the same, I'll keep looking." He patted Regulus on the back, and then left the room.  
  
Regulus sat on Sirius' bed, thinking that this was quite a clever allusion to what really had happened to Sirius: he was lost, and wouldn't be found.  
  
And Regulus was alone and brother-less. But that didn't bother him, because he no longer cared for traitors who didn't care for him anymore.  
  
-fin.  
  
a/n: Reviews are like chocolate; they're wonderful. hint-hint 


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